


No Regrets

by Oneredshoe



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 11:30:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7435942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oneredshoe/pseuds/Oneredshoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Granger has been hiding something from her husband, Ron Weasley, something rather permanent in ink on her side. No imagination is needed to know what happens when Ron finally sees it, but he has his own secrets too, and they stay together for the children. However, what happens now the children are grown up. This story is based around worrywart’s story, The Secrets of Ink, (on FF.net) but is an alternative with a SS/HG HEA.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Regrets

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaimer:-**   
>  _My plot is mine, however, I neither own nor earn anything from this story. Harry Potter and his world are the intellectual property of J.K. Rowling and her affiliates._
> 
> ~~~***~~~
> 
> **A/N:-**  
>  _The idea for this story came from a story by my friend worrywart, who wrote a story entitled, ‘The Secrets of Ink’, which you should all read it, and not only because it will place my story, but because it’s a brilliant little tale._  
>  After I read ‘The Secrets of Ink’ I had a dream about it, and this is my story based around worrywart’s story. It is posted with her permission, knowledge, skills as a beta and my sincere thanks for her help. I hope you enjoy. 

* * *

Hermione Granger breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard the front door. He was gone. She sat at her kitchen table and wondered who he was going to this time, not that it bothered her, but she had to admit to being just a little upset that he was demanding so much from her.

Holding her head in her hands, she reflected on the state of her life, and suddenly snorted. The stories she could tell, but again she would never dishonour the brave family who had taken her in, nor her children’s image of Ron as the perfect father. He had been a good father to them; he had provided abundantly for his children, and she had let him. It had been one of his bugbears with her though. She had never needed him to provide for her, she had always earned more than he did, even though he was a Quidditch star.

Hermione had hoped that allowing Ron to provide for the children would have been enough for him, but it was now obvious to her that perhaps it had just been another mistake. Maybe she should have given in a bit more often, and allowed him to care for her, but in her need for independence—which he had never understood—she had blindly pushed him away each time, and now hindsight told her that she shouldn’t have done that. She snorted, _well that still wouldn't have stopped him finding my tattoo that day when my brain was so hazy with fever._

 _Had we been happy at all?_ The answer came to her swiftly. _Sometimes, and perhaps he a little more than me,_ and she sighed. _Well that was until seven years ago when I’d been sick with the flu and had forgotten to place the glamour spells over my tat one morning_. She’d been dressing when Ron had he’d seen it. In one short moment their relationship had been swiftly and irreversibly destroyed.

It hadn’t been the fact that she had a tattoo, it had been what her tattoo represented. So now that the children were grown, the only thing left to tell the family was that her marriage to Ron Weasley was over. Well, in every sense except the official divorce proceedings.

Initially, once Ron had calmed down enough for Hermione to make him think straight, they’d stayed together for the children, Hugo was only just starting Hogwarts then, but even as she tried to explain, Hermione could see that she was suddenly dead to Ron. Having a tattoo that you had hidden from your spouse for over a decade was bad enough, but being a Gryffindor and having a Slytherin coat of arms with Severus Snape’s name emblazoned across it must have seemed the ultimate act of betrayal to him.

The last seven years had been very difficult. Trying to maintain the pretence of normality in front of everyone was tiring, but now both the children were grown and had flown the nest, Hermione and Ron had decided that they both needed to move on as well. The pretence of normality—pretending to be in love and blissfully happy, when the opposite was the case—was very tiring, and it would be nice to leave it behind.

It struck Hermione at that moment that they had both led their friends and family astray; they had been routinely lying to them for seven years. _Well, perhaps longer than that_ , Hermione thought wryly, _especially in Ron’s case. He’s been cheating on me for more than seven years, but of course, he doesn’t know I know that little fact._

She sighed once more and pushed herself up from the table, her thoughts swirling. _I never realised exactly how fragile my feelings for Ron were, because these last seven years have killed anything I ever felt completely. Once he’d rejected me so easily, I could see that perhaps we had been influenced into marrying because it was expected._ She sighed. _It  also highlights that my attempt to move on from my feelings for a dead man have been futile, and that in fact, Ron was only a second grade replacement for what I had really wanted. Mind you, back then I hadn’t had a hope of recognising what’s painfully clear now, and I’d rather live alone than submit to any more of his rejection of me_.

Hermione had climbed to the top of the stairs as she thought about all of this. She knew her family thought of her as prim and proper, and she guessed that was exactly what she had become, but oh how she longed to break out of that mould and run, dance, rediscover that naïve young woman who was so rebellious, who had been going to conquer the world, who had realised too late that she was in love with a martyred spy, who knew deep inside that she still was.

Using the hallway entrance to her bedroom and not going through the master bedroom, Hermione closed the door behind herself. Not many people had ever questioned why the extra door existed, but Hermione had always truthfully told those who did ask, that when they’d bought the house six years ago it had just been like that, and it had.

Their house was an old style manor home, and the master suite consisted of separate bedrooms within the same area, and this was part of the reason they had bought it, so they could appear to be entering the same room of a night when they had guests but still have their separate rooms.

Placing her dressing gown on the end of her bed, Hermione pulled her silk chemise over her head and twisted to examine the offending tattoo in the mirror as she always did before getting into the shower. Despite what it had cost her, she still loved it. It had offered her some closure, and had been her last rebellion, before life had taken her on the path she lived today. She had never shared—not even with Ginny—her exact feelings for Severus; she knew her friend knew she’d fancied him, but no one knew how much.

The Slytherin crest was still as vivid as it had been when she’d had it done, and his name still stood out in just as dramatically in black. She kidded herself that he might like it, but then she smiled sadly as her eyes panned down to the date of his death. She’d come to care for the little snake that slithered over the drawing, thinking of him as something of a sort of pet. She traced his movements with her finger and sensed the magic that made him move.

Harry had loved the tat that Ginny had gotten the same day so much that he had encouraged her to extend it and had even gone with her when she’d had that done. _Ah, the differences_ , she pondered. Ron never liked my body. Too curvy, he’d told her often, especially when he was peeved with her. He preferred blonde stick insects he told her; it was a pity he hadn’t revealed that fact before they’d married. Well of course, she was also just as guilty on that front, wasn’t she? She hadn’t trusted him with the knowledge of her secret either.

Hermione examined her body as she stood there. Sometimes it surprised her to think that she was now in her late forties with a grown family. She was still curvy, with an hour-glass figure, and she considered that she was in pretty decent shape for her age. She still went through all the same training routines that the Aurory put the recruits through, even though she was now head of the Office of Magical Law Enforcement. It didn’t hurt to be prepared for anything, did it, and she could take pride in her body, even if no one else wanted to look at it.

Sighing, she wandered into her bathroom and started the water as she thought of the conversation she was planning to have with Ginny over coffee this morning. Neither she nor Ron had wanted to sour the celebrations for Lily’s coming of age, but now that her niece’s birthday was over she wanted to tell her best friend what was happening : in short that her marriage was over.

Hermione desperately wanted someone’s objective view on what was happening around her. She’d thought of talking to Rose, but couldn’t bring herself to upset her daughter’s perspective on things just yet. Besides, Hermione had other issues to bring up with her daughter, because her motherly radar had noticed that during the course of Lily’s party, Rose was very fond of Scorpius Malfoy. In fact she had noticed twice that both Rose and Scorpius were missing at the same time. Thankfully both times Ron had also been missing and hadn’t noticed. She rinsed her hair out and exhaled a sigh. Ron certainly had his fair share of secrets since they had decided to go their separate ways and start divorce proceedings, and it had only gotten worse.

Hermione had agreed be out of the house by the time Ron returned. That gave her one month to find somewhere to live and sort everything out. She was a criminal lawyer, but Draco Malfoy was the best divorce lawyer she knew, so she was going to see him later today because she was expecting things to get dirty once Molly heard—blood and water and all that—and while she was willing to allow Ron to have the house, she wanted to come out of it with her savings intact. She sighed, a friend who understood where she was coming from, that’s what she needed at the moment, so Ginny and by extension Harry were those most likely to understand.

~~~***~~~

“What?” Ginny screeched. “Seven years ago?!” It was obvious that the redhead was supremely confused, but then her demeanour suddenly changed and she exhaled. “Oh, love, that’s a long time to hold this in,” she stated, her voice sympathetic as her hand covered Hermione’s.

Hermione’s response to this was very measured as she felt emotions she thought she had under control, heaving themselves to the surface, and it took her some time to formulate a response to her sister-in-law’s caring reply. She smiled weakly. “I guess I wasn’t expecting to marry Ron when I…” But her emotions got the better of her, and she stopped talking and took a sip of her coffee.

“No,” Ginny laughed. “That _was_ a surprise.” She mulled it over slightly as she took a sip of her coffee. “But you were happy some of the time, yeah?”

Hermione nodded, giving Ginny her practiced smile. “Yeah, some of the time.”

It finally struck the redhead that she’d seen that smile often, and it was the one that Hermione used in public. It was at that moment that it dawned on her that her best friend was perhaps not as happy as she’d thought she was. “But not all the time?” she ventured, upset that she’d never fathomed the fact, and a little hurt that Hermione had obviously not confided it.

Hermione saw straight through the comment. “Don’t be upset with me over not telling you.”

Ginny exhaled. “I’m not,” she said a little too quickly, and just waited for Hermione to answer.

The brunette witch drew a shaky breath. “No, not all the time,” she eventually conceded.

The two witches sat in silence sipping their coffee for some time after Hermione’s admission.

“So what happens now?” Ginny asked without warning.

Taking a very deep breath, Hermione said, “Well… I see Malfoy this afternoon, tell the kids this weekend, and move out of the house by the end of the month.”

“Oh!” Ginny gasped, slightly shocked by Hermione’s matter-of-fact attitude.

“I’ve had long enough to think about this,” Hermione replied, shrugging and watching her finger tracing the handle of her mug intently until her emotions came into check once more.

“Do you think it would have come to this if he hadn’t found the tattoo?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” and her shoulder shifted again. “I think we were both making the best of the situation, and I’ve been finding lipstick on his collar for more than seven years.”

“Really!?” Ginny all but squealed. “That bloody rat!”

Hermione shrugged yet again. “I guess he wasn’t fulfilled either.”

They went back to silently drinking their coffee, and Ginny got up to get more biscuits.

“Lily’s seventeenth was great,” Hermione commented absently. “Did she enjoy herself?”

Ginny smiled. “Yes, she tells us she had a wonderful time. Mind you, Mum’s still badgering me to know what the ‘other’,” and she used inverted air commas, “present we got her was.”

Hermione giggled in response. “I loved her design; where did she eventually have it placed?”

“Pretty much the same place as you,” Ginny replied, but avoided her friend’s gaze.

“You told her?” Hermione gasped, seeing straight through Ginny’s statement.

“I’m sorry; it just kind of just slipped out.” Ginny winced as she admitted her slip.

Huffing, Hermione said, “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter now anyway.” She ran her hands through her hair. “Oh Merlin, Gin, what a mess,” she groaned.

Ginny’s hand patted Hermione’s arm. “Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out. What time’s your appointment with Malfoy?”

“Two.”

“Would you like me to come?”

“Thanks, but I’ll manage,” Hermione assured her.

Another period of comfortable silence descended before Ginny asked, “’Mione? Do you think you would have gone after Snape, you know… if you’d had the chance…. instead of marrying Ron?”

“Aren’t you really asking if I would have hurt your brother by accepting his proposal if I’d had someone else who may have wanted…” but she stopped talking and cleared her throat.

Ginny’s hand tightened on Hermione’s arm. “No!” she gasped, her eyes widening. “It’s just we all thought you were making it work so well.”

“I know,” and she sighed. “I don’t know… I guess maybe… I don’t know. Those first years after the war were so confusing, and Ron’s attention dulled the pain somewhat, I guess that’s why I allowed myself to be pushed into marriage. Mind you, looking back on it now, I was a fool to marry someone I felt the need to hide a part of me from… But hey, that’s life. He asked, and I loved him. It took me years to realise that the difference was that I loved him as a friend and not a husband. Not like you and Harry.”

“But you seemed happy,” Ginny insisted.

“I was… content,” she decided, and shrugged, “well most of the time, and I can understand Ron’s reaction to finding out about the tat. He hated the professor; he never understood why he was like he was.” Her shoulders rose sharply and she sighed. “I was searching for somewhere to belong, and Rose and Hugo were the result. I can’t regret anything that gave me those two wonderful people.” She opened her mouth to say more but her lip suddenly quivered and she stopped talking.

~~~***~~~

It had been when Hermione sat her children down to tell them that she and Ron were breaking up that the most emotional tidal wave had threatened to engulf her. Once she had everything set to go, she had invited them home for dinner.

“So where’s dad?” Hugo had abruptly questioned as she’d told them what was happening, and his tone was distinctly chilly.

“Your father thought it best if I…”

“He’s with one of his bimbos, isn’t he?” Hugo cut in.

“Hugo!” Hermione said, shocked.

“Mum, we’ve known for a long time that dad’s been cheating on you,” Rose told her. “Why have you stayed with him so long?”

“Yes, it was obvious that you weren’t happy,” Hugo added.

“It was!?” Hermione said, blinking. She had thought that she’d hidden it from them over the years, but before she could respond, Rose was talking again.

“Was there something that caused it initially? It’s only that I remember you being a different person when I went to Hogwarts, but by the time Hugo went, it was like you’d closed down emotionally,” Rose told her thoughtfully.

Hermione sighed, and looked at her kids. Rose was astute for her nineteen years, and Hermione considered her answer carefully. “Well, I guess it will come out in the divorce proceedings, so I’d rather you know now. Hermione stood and lifted the side of her tee-shirt up.

“Wow, that’s brilliant, Mum,” Hugo gasped, his eyes like saucers. His reaction exactly the same as she remembered his father when he was seventeen.

“Gee,” Rose added, her finger coming out to touch the black lines. Then her eyes snapped to her mother’s. “Is this the only reason?”

“What makes you ask that?” Hermione inquired shakily, already seeing where Rose was going with this from the light in her astute gaze.

“Well, it’s just that it doesn’t seem like something that should end a marriage, you know?” She pinned her mother with a stern eye. “And you said so yourself, you had it before you even contemplated marrying Dad. It seems rather juvenile on Dad’s part to hold something against you that you had before you married him.”

Hermione took her time answering, uncertain how much to tell them. She straightened her clothing again and sat back down. “I got it just after the war. Well anyway, I hadn’t even thought of your father as a potential life partner yet. He hates everything Slytherin,” and she gave Rose a significant look and saw her blush, but she kept talking. “Professor Snape had been so brave, and it was so unfair that he died without seeing the world he had helped create, and at the time I was a little sweet on him.” She smiled ruefully, but when she realised what she was doing she quickly ordered her expression once more. There was no way she was admitting anything more than that to her children.

However, Rose instantly saw through her. “You still are, by the looks of it,” she chuckled.

Hermione huffed. “The thing is, I hid it from your father, and I think that’s more why he didn’t forgive me.”

“No,” Hugo said, shaking his head. “Rosie’s right, it’s not enough to stop someone loving you, and then to leave and make you deal with everything.” Hugo moved forward and pulled his mother into a hug. “I’m here for you. I love Dad too, but I think what he’s done is wrong. I’ll stand with you when Grandma finds out.”

Rose gave her brother a slap upside the head. “Oh, you’re so brave, Hugh,” she stated sarcastically, but then added her voice. “Yeah, me too,” and she joined the hug.

“Hey,” Hugo retaliated, “Grandma’s scary.”

They all laughed, and Hermione changed their embrace and hugged her children fiercely. “Thank you,” she said, her relief showing through in her voice, as her unconditional love for two people wound tightly in her chest.

Over the next month, there were many more discussions over coffee with Ginny and sometimes Harry too, and Hermione grew to hate Ron for leaving her to face everyone while he was away doing who knew what, totally without blame.

Yes, she realised that they would never have been in the situation if she hadn’t made a loud and permanent declaration of devotion to another wizard in ink on her side, but she didn’t regret it, she couldn’t.

She sighed. It wasn’t entirely bleak though. Harry and Ginny stood by her when Molly finally got wind and excommunicated her. Rose and Hugo were always by her side as well; in fact they were more supportive than she had ever thought they would be. They were also very vocal to their wayward father when he turned up as well.

~~~***~~~

Hermione had weathered the storm. It was now a year later, and she was established in a lovely terrace house in Grimmauld Place, six doors up from the Potters. It had come up for sale almost the very day she had started looking.

She was finally a truly free woman. Draco Malfoy had proven to be a wonderful choice for a divorce lawyer. Hermione smiled into her wine, and of course it hadn’t hurt that he thought Ron was an imbecile.

Malfoy had easily managed to keep her savings intact, and on top of that he’d convinced the Wizengamot to order Ron to pay her for her pain and suffering over the past seven years. He had swung it all into Hermione’s favour, and Ron had come off looking like the cheating rat that he was.

She had also trusted Malfoy with the real reason, and he had told her that it wasn’t grounds for divorce, but Ron’s cheating was. So, all in all, Hermione was happy.

Hermione’s quiet smile turned into a little sigh. She often wondered about Ginny’s question from the day she’d told her the whole story. What would she have done if Severus hadn’t died in the Battle of Hogwarts? She still didn’t have an answer for that.

~~~***~~~

The next month at work was stressful. There seemed to be a new threat in the air. Several Muggle-borns had been attacked recently, not badly, but Harry had urged Hermione to be cautious until the attacker was caught, but of course she had always been able to look after herself and had fobbed him off.

But as the crisis deepened and dark curses were starting to be used in the attacks, she had heard that the Minister had brought in a Dark Magic expert from the continent to help solve the issue. Hermione refused to see why a continental Auror—who knew nothing about the Voldemort era—would know more about the situation then one of the English Aurors would, but at the time she had not even thought about it too much.

Then it had started last week; there had been several times when Hermione had been certain that she was being watched, but despite her extensive detection skills, she had never caught a glimpse of who was watching her.

She had not told Harry, and she certainly wasn’t going to ask anyone else, but tonight as she was working in the cavernous Ministry library, after hours and alone, all the hairs on the back of her neck were standing erect, and she was very aware that there were eyes on her. There was something not right, and she decided that working in her office was a better idea. She had just collected her work up to take it back with her.

She had just straightened up after collecting her work, turning to leave when a hex sizzled past her, glancing her side, at the same time as someone’s shield erected around her. She yelped and papers went everywhere as she instantly took a defensive pose, even though her side complained at the movement.

What happened next took place in the blink of an eye. From behind the shield she was grasped around the waist by a strong arm. She yelped again, but was shocked into silence as an achingly familiar voice whispered in her ear as she ascended to safety.

“Don’t struggle, Hermione, you’re safe.”

Turning her head abruptly, Hermione found herself rising towards the ceiling in the arms of none other than Severus Snape, and her world seemed to explode around her. Hexes and curses were sizzling through the air below them, but she was caught in the dark gaze of the one wizard she thought she would never see again.

They landed somewhere--she didn’t care where—and Hermione brought a shaking hand up to his face. She cupped his warm cheek and whispered. “You’re alive.”

“Obviously,” he replied, but there was none of his usual venom in the word.

His eyes were watching her as her fingers stroked his cheek and the fight continued below.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” she told him finally.

The corner of his mouth rose softly. “Why would you want to see me again?”

Their faces were so close together, and regardless of the passage of time, he looked almost the same as he always had. Perhaps the worry lines on his face were more deeply etched and there were a few threads of silver amongst the raven, but his beautiful eyes were the same. People thought him cold and unyielding, but Hermione saw the passion in the depth of his eyes now and could not resist.

“To do this,” she murmured in answer to his question and pressed her lips to his.

He exhaled sharply as their lips met and for a heart breaking second he didn’t respond, but then he was kissing her back, and Hermione was in heaven. This was all she thought that a kiss should be.

Of course, all good things end, and there was a voice from below yelling up. “We’ve got him, sir.”

It seemed to bring Hermione back to reality and as much as she’d enjoyed the kiss, she suddenly realised that she had indeed just kissed someone who may have been married or may have only gone along with her from the shock of her forwardness, and she whimpered.

“I’m so sorry; I shouldn’t have forced myself on you like that.”

He was about to answer her when the voice below yelled again.

“Oi, sir, can you hear me?”

Severus looked irritated and directed his prestigious voice towards the wizard below. “Yes Jenkins, I can hear you perfectly, as I’m certain can half the Ministry. I will bring Madam Granger back down once you have secured the area, you foolish little twerp.”

Turning back to Hermione he muttered, “Officious little fuckwit.” His eyes took her in as she stood in his arms with her lip wedged firmly in her teeth. He had watched her all week, waiting for the fiend to strike against her. It hadn’t taken a genius to work out that Hermione Granger would be the next target. The attacker had been working his way up the ladder of important Muggle-born employees of the Ministry, and Hermione was the top of that ladder.

The last thing he remembered the day of the Battle of Hogwarts, before the Draught of Living Death kicked in, was her face in front of him and the tears in her eyes, and he had always wondered why she had cared. Then a recent visit from his godson had illuminated several things to him, and he had decided to accept the English minister’s plea for help concerning the spate of attacks against Muggle-borns, already knowing that she would be a target. 

He had followed her career, including her ill-advised marriage to Weasley, but it had been while he was guarding her this week that he had seen her with new eyes.  She was a stunning little witch, and seeing the woman she had become he had doubled his efforts to protect her, hoping that once the job was done he might approach her.

Well, now the job was done, and all bets were off. She had kissed him and he intended that once he had processed their captive and finished here that he was going to have her kiss him again and hopefully more than that as well.

Severus realised that he had spent too long in answering when he heard Hermione whimper painfully and start to pull away. He allowed her freedom but said, “Careful, we are on top of one of the stacks.”

“What?” She glanced down and her world span. “Oh my god,” she squeaked, and froze up.

That was when certain other facts came back to him from Hogwarts. Hermione Granger hated heights, and he made a grab for her. “It’s all right, Hermione. You’re safe, I won’t let you fall.”

Then, without warning it all became too much for her. There were too many unanswered questions, too much shock and the painful thought that it may all be a dream. It didn’t matter that she was the Honourable Madam Hermione Granger, head of the Magical Law Enforcement Office; she was crying, in fact, she was sobbing while clutching Severus Snape’s robes, and she was shocked that he was surprisingly tolerant of this.

“Shhh,” he encouraged. “I know it’s a shock, but dry your eyes, love. You don’t want that lot down there to see you upset.”

“No,” she replied weakly.

“I’ll deliver you back to the ground, and once you’ve been checked over by a healer, then I’ll take you home. I think it would be a good idea if we talked.”

Hermione sobered immediately. That couldn’t mean anything good. “Oh?”

To her surprise she felt Severus lifting her chin. “Don’t be so negative, love. It will be all right.”

“Oh! I-It will?”

He chuckled without answering her. “Come, I have the urge to get you alone, and I’m sure your know-it-all brain has many questions, but we need to finish up down there first.”

Hermione had to say that the man currently showing her understanding was exactly the man she had hoped her sarcastic former professor would have been in private, but she still didn’t trust that this was not a cruel dream, and she was very hesitant as they started towards the ground.

They landed and she noticed that he kept her behind him, and she could feel a buzz of magic as well, so she knew that he had erected security wards around them, and she settled again. It was as she did this that she remembered she was slightly wounded, and looked down to see a trickle of drying blood on her suit and a cut through the fabric. That was when she realised that whatever wound she had was over part of her tattoo.

Harry had arrived at the end of the operation to take custody of the prisoner. He had stayed away until he had word that they’d been successful, as it had been thought that Snape’s team of undercover agents would be best working alone. Of course Harry had instantly honed in on the blood on Hermione’s jacket.

“I’m okay, Harry, I can hardly feel it,” Hermione told him, staying very close to Severus; she was not letting him out of her sight.

“Go to the infirmary,” Harry insisted.

“No, I’ll be fine; you guys just finish what you need to do,” Hermione replied, with a glint of steel in her eyes.

So she sat there while Severus and Harry were dealing with a weedy looking wizard called Aloysius Garvin. It turned out that he was a disgruntled wacko, and did not appear to have any ambitions as a new Dark Lord. He was just a little loopy, of course this did not excuse his behaviour, or the fact that each of his attacks had been becoming more violent and twisted, nor that he was unrepentant for these acts.

Hermione had to admit that she was shocked by the vitriol spewing from his mouth as she sat safely hidden in the next room behind a one-way charmed mirror.  It was true that as a prosecutor she had heard some fairly outrageous reasons why people did things, but Garvin had merely been jilted by a Muggle-born and had developed a hatred for all of them because of it.

Of course, while she was sitting waiting, it gave Hermione time to consider that Harry had not been shocked to see Severus, and this could only mean that he already knew he was here. She was slightly hurt that he hadn’t told her the same, but then she considered the position that would have put them all in, and he had probably been sworn to secrecy. She would still be asking questions afterwards though.

~~~***~~~

Once the prisoner on his way to Azkaban, Snape escorted Hermione to the Ministry infirmary to get her side seen to. Hermione submitted to having the medi-witch close and heal the small slice in her side and she dressed again, smiling when she realised which part of her tattoo the injury had actually ruined.

As she came out from behind the curtain, she saw Severus leaning up against the wall, waiting for her. He looked exhausted, and she walked over to him. Before they had left, Harry had confided in her that Severus had indeed not slept very much in the week he had been here. He had been right in his hunch that Hermione would be the next victim, and he had appeared very determined to catch whoever it was before any harm came to her.

“You look dead on your feet,” Hermione murmured, walking up to him.

“I have to say that I would much rather be off my feet,” he responded with a tired tilt of his lips.

Hermione was shocked with his candour, and decided not to pussy-foot around. “Then come home with me, and we’ll see what we can do about that,” she proposed as suggestively as she could manage.

He instantly took her meaning, his eyebrow quirking. Then he gestured that she should lead the way.

They walked down to the public Floos, and Hermione took a pinch of powder and smiled at him as she said, “Number three, Grimmauld Place,” and stepped in.

Severus followed and landed soon after her in her lounge room.

She smiled at him. “Make yourself at home. Would you like something to eat or drink?” she asked as she boldly curled her arms around his neck.

“To tell the truth, I think I’m too tired.”

“Then perhaps I should just take you to bed?” She closed the distance between and stood on her tip-toes as she encouraged his head down to hers. “Would you like that?” she asked after caressing his lips. “And maybe a shower?” she asked softly.

He kissed her and then replied, “Yes, maybe a shower.” Giving her another, more heated kiss, he whispered, “You really are very forward, my dear.”

“I want you,” she answered plainly, “and I do not want you to leave me ever again.” She turned, and taking his hand she led him toward her bathroom. “Severus, I thought you were dead, but I’ve never been able to get you out of my heart.”

Severus pulled them to a stop and turned her to face him. “I never dreamt anyone in England would have missed me. Once my mission was complete, I left.”

There were tears in her eyes when she lifted her face to his. “If I had thought for even one moment that you were still alive when we left you that day, I would have assisted you in any way that I could.”

He kissed both of her eyes to stem to flow of tears. “I’m a very good Potions master, my dear, and in the end it was easy to fake death long enough to have everyone leave me for dead. Do not feel bad about it, I wanted nothing more than to be left alone to escape and recover. The battle was over when I came to, and I simply apparated away. I was a different wizard back then.”

Hermione opened her eyes. “Do you think that you are the type of wizard now who might like to see if we would work together?”

Severus smiled, a true smile, and nodded. “Yes, I believe I would like that. Now, you intimated that showering and bed were options.”

Hermione’s smile was radiant. “Indeed I did.”

They made it into the bathroom and started undressing one another as their lips explored each piece of exposed skin. As she removed his shirt and coat in one movement, she saw that he had various tattoos as well as scars over his body. However, it was at this point that Hermione felt him still, and she watched his eyes panning down to where her blouse had just fallen away.

“What have we here, Hermione? This looks suspiciously like a Slytherin crest.”

Just the very top of her tattoo was visible over the top of her skirt. She looked at him squarely and said, “That would be the reason I’m now free to encourage you to stay and spend the night with me here with you in my own house.”

“I’m intrigued,” Severus smoothed, smiling. “Would you care to show me?”

Hermione’s hands shook as she unbuttoned her skirt and allowed it to pool at her feet. “I had it done just after the war. A tribute to a martyred spy,” she whispered.

His eyes came up to lock with hers, and he looked uncertain. “Is that what you think of me as?”

She shook her head. “No, you are so much more than that to me,” but her voice cracked when she continued. “Although, I never thought I’d be lucky enough to be able to show you.” Her hands came up and cradled his face. “I know this might be the wrong thing to say and too soon and all… but I love you. I came back for your body the day of the battle, b-but you were gone.” She sniffed. “O-out of everything I’d endured… that was the single most difficult thing I have ever had to deal with.” She inhaled deeply. “I’ve never told anyone, but… f-for months after that, I wanted to go wherever you’d gone.” She glanced down at her side. “Getting this,” and she lovingly caressed her tat, but then shrugged. “Well, i-it was something positive to do to try and get past the hurt.”

Severus’ lips crashed down on hers, and their kiss was almost violent in its intensity. He cradled her cheeks in return as she kissed him back and cried for the memory of her pain. He had been starting to think that she might be just like all the others, but then he’d remembered the pain he’d seen in her eyes as she thought she was watching him dying, and now her words and he choose the right course in moments. Tearing his mouth away from hers, and starting to pepper her face with kisses, he said urgently, “I did not know, Merlin help me, I did not know that you cared,” and he claimed her lips again for a heated kiss.

They seemed to have forgotten that they had been about to shower and Severus started backing her towards the vanity, and once there, he lifted her onto it. Their mouths were still moving in unison, and the need to join together more securely was his only concern.

Fumbling with his trousers, he managed to get his belt undone and then release his raging erection.

The moment he did, Hermione set about trying to impale herself on it. “Oh god, Severus, do it,” she groaned. “I’ve wanted you for so long, do it!”

Without another word he pulled the crotch of her saturated knickers aside and sank into her welcoming heat.

They both groaned as they came together, and Hermione pulled him deeper in with her legs around his hips. Their mouths joined again, and they set a rhythm in the age old dance of love.

Neither of them lasted long, Severus managed to hold himself back just long enough for Hermione’s internal muscles to start convulsing around his shaft, and then he followed her. He sagged onto the edges of the vanity, panting like an athlete, and Hermione held him as their hearts hammered, and they both realised that what they’d just done had been quite perfect.

As soon as they could manage it, they made it to the shower and then soon after that to bed, where they collapsed exhausted.

~~~***~~~

The next day, Hermione awoke to the feel of Severus mapping the contours of her tattoo with his tongue. It felt amazing, and she sighed as she ran her hands over his arms and opened her legs to him.

His tongue paused and flicked back and forth over the healed injury from last night, and then he chuckled. “I was kicking myself that I didn’t erect a shield around you quick enough last night, but looking at what has been deleted from your tat I can’t find in it me to be upset.”

“Mmm,” Hermione agreed, the sleep still obviously leaving her. “Neither can I,” and she turned onto her back to look at him, “for it has been made abundantly clear to me that you are very much alive, and most certainly did not die in 1998.” She giggled, and then sighed as she felt his talented tongue sweeping up to take one of her nipples in his mouth as his long fingers sank into her welcoming wetness.

 _This is home_ , she thought. _We might all have bits of our lives we’d like to change, but I’ve just got what I’ve always wanted. I’m so lucky, I have no regrets_ , and then she stopped thinking as Severus’ ministrations shut her higher order thinking functions down, and she groaned deeply.

~~~Finis~~~


End file.
